Perpetually Human Part II
by mont-blank
Summary: Sequel to Perpetually Human: Carson reevaluates his choices.
1. Chapter 1

Her heart felt light and joyful. It had taken enough to get him to the beach, she'd practically had to beat him over the head with clues, but he got it in the end and the payoff was well worth the effort. When she had offered him her hand in the water, she had been partially teasing him, she hadn't fully expected him to accept it but was glad that he had. Their little paddle through the waves, hand in hand had given her a floating happy feeling that seemed to be carrying her even now as they walked along the beach.

So she wasn't angry with him then. She had seemed herself during working hours every day since their-well he wasn't sure even now what to call it. Their encounter? Their conversation-their kiss? He had dreamt about that kiss; it had brought him such a mix of melancholy pain and hopeful joy that he was left constantly just on the cusp of contentment. He wanted to do it again and again and again, he wanted to kiss her until his lips bled. He had always understood, in theory, the poetry and the songs about a woman's rose petal lips, but now his understanding was more intimate. His understanding of the beauty of a lover's kiss was a knowledge that drove him, at time it seemed, to insanity. After the kiss, she had been herself during working hours, yes, but it had taken a very long time for her to visit his pantry in the evenings again.

Sometimes as he sat at his desk only half concentrating on his work he would hear the faintest sound of someone walking to his door, he would see the shadow of her feet, but she would not knock, she would not enter, she wouldn't even stand very long, she would think better of it and leave. She tore his heart out every time she did so, but he supposed that she was giving no less than he had asked for. He had held his head in his hands and asked himself, too many times, why he could not have just told her that he loved her. He realized all too late that he hadn't answered her when she asked if he loved her; he hadn't said yes because he assumed she already knew. He dreamed it a thousand times and a thousand different ways since then-saying "Of course I do. How could I not?", taking her in his arms and kissing her again, kissing her and, even sometimes, in his wilder fantasies making love to her-but none of his imagined scenarios were the truth. The truth of the matter was that he had been a coward and told her that he was not allowed-like a dog on a leash-he was held back from loving her. As he looked at her now, her face rosy and beautiful in the afternoon sun, he knew that was the truth.


	2. Chapter 2

Yes she was beautiful, of course she was beautiful, but what did beauty matter in the end? Beauty was temporary; physical beauty faded over time, it was the kindness of her heart that he loved, the warmth of their friendship. Just as he had begun to think along that path she looked at him, one eyebrow raised and said "You're rather a mystery today, Mr. Carson."

"What do you mean?"

"You've hardly said a word since we came out of the water."

"Haven't I? I suppose I'm a bit wrapped up in my thoughts today."

"Thoughts of what, may I ask?"

He took a few seconds to figure out how to phrase his thoughts. "You and I..." he began "are rather good friends… aren't we, Mrs. Hughes?" He looked at her face when he spoke, and the smile that spread across it proved his previous train of thought to be rather ill-supported. If beauty faded with age and if, as she had said, they were both "getting on" then she should be somewhat less of a pleasure to behold by now, but that was not the situation as he saw it. Perhaps beauty wasn't important in love, but in the case of his love beauty was certainly extremely present.

"I daresay we are, Mr. Carson" He could hear the lightness in her tone; she was thinking it was a silly thing to remark on. He was sure it sounded that way, but he wasn't sure how to proceed, he was thinking of all of the very thoughtful things she had done for him in the time they had been acquainted, even the things he-at the time-wished she had not done, but had turned out so well. The most recent example, proving again that she usually knew what was best (far better than he did anyway) being what she had done for Grigg, and for himself …with Alice.

"You've been rather a better friend to me than I have been you lately, and I can't help but feel that…" he stopped walking, and she looked at him, silently encouraging him to finish his sentence "…I can't help but think that I don't deserve you, Mrs. Hughes." at that she looked surprised and incredulous.

"My my" she smiled "I can't say I haven't had that thought myself, Mr. Carson." And she continued strolling, knowing full well he would follow "And yet you have me" she looked up at him as they strolled "I would venture so far as to say that you and I are quite stuck with one another for the rest of our days, so long as neither of us tries to leave again." She teased.

"Is that really how you feel? Stuck with me?"


	3. Chapter 3

She laughed. She laughed the small, short, melancholy laugh of someone who is resigned to the ridiculous. She couldn't help it, it just happened, and now, she supposed, she had either to be honest or to try and think of lie to save herself the trouble. But she was exhausted with trying to save face "Of course it is. You won't love me, and I won't leave you." They both knew that she didn't stay only for him, but they both knew that if she left, he would be the hardest person for her to say goodbye to, she was sure that on some level that his humility refused to openly acknowledge that he knew that. She looked at his sad, handsome eyes, wondering how he would react.

"I do love you." He said, finally "I didn't say it before. I didn't say it that night in your sitting room, but I meant to."

She felt the hot sting of tears behind her eyes, and felt suddenly angry with him. "What's the point of saying it now?"

It seemed she'd opened the flood gates.

"I've wanted to say it to you more times than I can recall, but the truth is that I am a coward, Elsie." He opened and closed his mouth, looking lost, searching for words. "You see, the family, they need me. You don't. You don't need me."

She opened her mouth to say something but she found herself unable to put her frustration with his "reason" into words, and closed it again. In her silence he continued trying to explain himself. "What can I ever be to you?"

She felt so exhausted with his doubt and his riddles. "What do you mean?"

"I'm a _butler_" he stressed the word "my work has no value outside of the family I serve. _They _need me, I have something to give to them, but you… What can I ever give to you? What have you ever needed from another person? How can I possibly be of any value to you?"

She could hardly decide if she wanted more to slap him across the face or to kiss him. Was that all? Was that really all? Had he kept her in agony all these years because he could see no material value in what he had to give her? She was so relieved. She was so annoyed. She would actually have to spell it out for him. How could he be so wonderful and so very stupid at the same time? "Freedom" was the word that leapt to the forefront of her mind "from this binding loneliness that I feel living so close to you every day, but always being kept at arm's length." She watched the words sink in before she continued with a lighter tone "and a kiss once in a while wouldn't go amiss".


	4. Chapter 4

A kiss? Had she really said that out loud? Out here? "I wasn't imagining it earlier, then? You really are getting to be a little risqué."

She laughed again, and looked into his eyes "I suppose I am. But like I said, we're not getting any younger, Mr. Carson, it's about time we started really living our lives."

"Don't you feel like you have been living?"

"I've been alive, I'm not sure it's the same."

"Have I really made you that unhappy? With the way I've behaved?"

She looked away, not wanting to answer, and in doing so, said everything.

"I've felt alive" He continued "Every year that I've spent at your side has been one I've been grateful for. I suppose I had convinced myself that you were as happy as I was, just to live side by side. I've been very happy to share this life with you."

"I'm not like you, Mr. Carson. I'm afraid I don't have quite your penchant for restraint." She teased.

"Ah well" He said, deepening his voice and straightening his posture "We can't all excel in every field, Mrs. Hughes" the corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly. She felt warm and buoyant, but not wholly at ease yet.

"So what shall we do with all of these declarations? Because, I'll be honest, if I'm forced to shut myself away again I don't know what will happen, I don't think I could cope with it."

"No" he agreed, a note of solemnity in his voice "and it would be very unkind of me to ask you to… unkind to both of us." He thought for a moment "Well it isn't as if we can exactly walk out is it?"


	5. Chapter 5

"What?" She looked amused and a little puzzled.

"Well if we're not putting our feelings to the side anymore then, logically speaking, the next step is courtship."

"And you don't feel we're a little old for it?" She half smiled, she was teasing him again, always teasing him.

"Are you saying you wouldn't want to go to the pictures with me if we could swing it?"

She chuckled "And how would we swing it? As you've said, it's not as if it would be easy, you and I taking the same day off. "

"It's not unheard of" he offered.

"Oh yes, we shall be able to take a private moment on our own about twice a year, this moment included."

"Ah…" She had a very good point there, he thought "Well we have our evenings, our conversations… although… the idea of courting a woman… alone in one of my private rooms, in the evening, with wine-"

"And you say I'm the risqué one" she smiled. She watched him think and try to devise a plan as they strolled. To be honest, she wasn't sure that she needed courtship, they'd been each other's closest confidant for so many years, they were as close as a married couple already. She didn't need him to take her to the pictures, and to ply her with little gifts, but, keeping with the theme of honesty, she would rather like him to do all of those things. There were certain benefits to feeling like a young girl again; she rather imagined a bit of something new would be good for the soul, and being courted by Mr. Carson would certainly be something new.

"Perhaps" he said "if I were to…." he looked at her, as if for permission "explain to his Lordship-to say that we have no desire to take advantage-that we merely wish to…" he trailed off, looking agitated.

She prompted him "Perhaps if we were to…" he didn't continue "not take advantage of what?"

"His kindness. He allowed Anna and Bates to marry, and to live on the estate, but you and I" he locked eyes with her "we're essential, we must be in the house all the time, and aside from that I wouldn't want to seem impertinent, asking for a repeat of something that was so clearly an exception made for a special circumstance."

"I see" she did see; it was a very difficult situation. The most obvious, immediate answer would be for her to surrender her post as housekeeper and become simply Mrs. Carson, living out her remaining decades as merely someone's wife with no purpose outside of her marriage-no-she was being too crass. That wasn't true of other women, they had plenty of purpose when they put their minds to it, but most of those women had children, or had the potential to have children. She was under no illusions, she would not be having any children, that time had passed. She refused, simply would not consider becoming an old dear who pottered about the house, waiting for her husband to come home; she hadn't worked hard her whole life to give up her accomplishments for that. She loved him, but did she love him enough to put herself through all of that? Had she been very stupid to push things do far? Should she have just kept quiet and been happy with her lot? As she looked at his face, twisted up in puzzlement and agitation, she suspected she should have just kept quiet.


	6. Chapter 6

This is different from the way the story has been flowing so far, but it felt the most natural for me. I hope you enjoy. Also proofreading is not my forte.

Robert walked, in a daze, to the library. He desperately needed to talk to someone. He needed Cora. He needed insight and advice, but more than that, he needed to tell someone what he had just overheard. He was smiling hard, he had suppressed a laugh of amazement-of relief back in the hallway where he had overheard the single best bit of gossip this house had ever given him. He took a few seconds to look around the gallery and marvel at the house. She really was a wonderful old thing-an absolute nightmare for his nerves and his finances, but a wonderful facilitator for happiness as well. She had done this, the house had brought all of this together and he was bursting with happiness.

In the library he found Mary reading a book "Where is your mother?" he asked her in the calmest tone he could manage, smile still firmly set on his face.

"In her room I expect." She looked up from her book "Why?" she lowered her book and sat up a little straighter when she saw his expression. He was going to say that he really should speak to Cora first, but then he thought better of it. "Well I suppose this concerns you as much as it does your mother or I."

"Goody" she said, glad of the potential entertainment good news might bring "I'd have died of curiosity wondering what that face was about."

He sat on the sofa next to her and began "I've just overheard the most extraordinary thing."

"Eavesdropping isn't usually your style, Papa" He gave her a reproachful look and continued. She smirked.

"Carson" He paused, not quite knowing how to phrase it. There was good news in this house and he was the first-upstairs anyway-to know about it. He wasn't used to this. "Well Carson has proposed to Mrs. Hughes."

"Well its about time."

"About time?" all of it was news to him, he had no idea Carson had been interested in romance at all, let alone with Mrs. Hughes.

"If any man made me wait as long he's made her, I don't think I should accept him. Has she?"

"Well that's the complicated bit."

"Complicated bit? Do tell"

"Well apparently they've had a row"

"About what?"

"About me" He said before he thought about how it would sound. Mary's eyebrows shot up. "No-" he backtracked "I mean about what I might say-about their employment."

"I see." She pondered it for a moment "What was said exactly?"

"Well all I heard was that he's been putting off talking to me and it's upset Mrs. Hughes."

"As it should. What's he waiting for?"

"I couldn't say exactly. I imagine he's wondering how to put it to me that being in my employ is much more of a matchmaking endeavor than a career. Should I go down and talk to him?"

"Of course not."

"Why not?"

"Because that takes away his chance to come and talk to you, his chance to" she adopted a slightly more dramatic tone "risk everything for his bride to be. If she's upset with him for not working up the courage to come and talk to you, it doesn't absolve him of it if you go down and talk to him." They both thought about it for a moment before an idea came to Mary "What we need is to find a way to coax him into talking to you."

"You say that as if he's a dog being baited with a treat"

"I'll reserve my commentary on that analogy and just ask you if you have a better idea."

They took another moment to think. "Well who did you overhear in the first place? Maybe they could be useful in our little plan."

"Anna. And it sounded like she was talking to miss Baxter."

"That's perfect. If Anna knows, surely Bates knows-but then…"

"But then?"

"Well I imagine that's exactly why he doesn't want to bring it to you. He's probably afraid of seeming to ride on Bates' coattails onto the list of people you have to make exceptions for. I mean really, it would be a disaster to lose Mrs. Hughes to domesticity. Well-you know what I mean."

"I don't see any reason we should lose her."

"Do you expect her to run your house as well as her own? I'm not sure even I could do that."

"I suppose it must come down to what she wants to do."

"An idea you're warming to quite well, I think."

An hour later, after the servants had finished their luncheon, Mary knocked at Carson's pantry door.

"Come in" he sounded completely normal, as if he were worrying about nothing, hiding nothing; she supposed he was very practiced at that. "My lady" He smiled and stood up"

"No need to get up. I just came to see how things are, how you are." She had only given this approach minimal thought before she had decided to come down here. She now felt she should have worked out exactly what to say beforehand.

"How I am?" he was as surprised as she was to hear her actually say it. Their fondness for one another was so rarely expressed in actual conversation. "I'm" he paused, thought "I'm doing quite well, my lady. Did you have any concern in particular?" He looked skeptical now. Damn it.

"Really I just wanted to say one thing." She felt very out of place and very out of line, but it was far too late now, she had to go on. "As you and I know only too well, Carson, in a house as populated as this, secrets don't stay secret for long." He looked worried. "One hears things, one isn't always sure if there is any truth to the thing one hears, but sometimes" she looked him dead in the eye "one hopes there is. I hope" she said, changing gears slightly "that you know that we want you to be happy."

"I appreciate that very much…even if I'm not quite sure what you mean."

Mary sighed. _Why must all men be so insistently obtuse? _"Carson" she began again "You have-on more than one occasion-stepped in and told me what I needed to hear even though you knew I didn't want to hear it."

"Out of concern-"

"And I'm forever grateful." She didn't want to discuss all of that again, not just now "and now I'm returning the favor." He held his worried look in place. "Do you love Mrs. Hughes?" Now he looked stunned.

"Well I-How did you know?"

"That's far too long a conversation. What I'm here to talk about is why you haven't moved forward." She made sure her voice marked her sincerity "I don't presume to know Mrs. Hughes very well, or to be able to precisely tell you how Papa will react (she needn't give away everyone's secrets), but what you need to think about is whether Mrs. Hughes deserves to be kept waiting any longer"

"I know" he sighed and sat back in his chair "It's not I don't consider her in all of this. In fact she's all I consider."

"How so?" Mary was genuinely interested to hear what he'd been thinking and she sat down as well.

"I don't want her to feel obliged to give anything up for me. I worry about putting pressure on her to run both our own household as well as this one. She has so much responsibility already, and she loves being here, I would never want to ask her to leave, but I don't feel quite right asking her to take on extra responsiibility on my account. Then there's the issue of employment…"He clearly didn't feel comfortable talking to Mary about this as a friend as she was also their employer.

"Carson, you don't have anything to worry about on that score. Papa will understand, I know it. Have you talked with your fiancée about her potential extra responsibilities? What does she think?"

He opened his mouth a little, but said nothing. "Oh, Carson, Really! You might find yourself needing to worry less about not knowing her feelings if you just asked her about them. We woman can be enigmatic creatures, but a sensible woman is hardly likely to beat around the bush when it comes to the security of her future… and if anyone has found a sensible woman it's certainly you." He drew in a deep, proud breath., smiling at the praise of his chosen partner.

"She is that."


	7. Chapter 7

Elsie stood in her bedroom, staring at nothing, unaware that she was wringing her hands as she contemplated her situation. He had been the one to propose to her, he had pulled her away from the Christmas celebrations and asked her to marry him. He seemed so sure then that this was what he wanted, that she was what he wanted. Why was he so hesitant now to proceed? She tried not to give in to her insecurities, but in this unfamiliar territory it was getting harder not to. There was a knock at her door. When she answered it she was surprised to see Mrs. Patmore.

"Is this where you've been hiding all day?"

"Is it obvious that's what I'm doing?"

"Well I wouldn't say you make it obvious, but you do make us all wonder where it is you get to these days. May I come in?"

"Of course" she moved aside and gestured to her friend to have a seat.

Elsie sat down and looked at Beryl's expectant face, not sure where to begin if Beryl asked her what she thought she she was going to ask her.

"You've got to talk to him."

Elsie let out a sigh "I know… the trouble is I just don't know what to say. I don't know what it is he really wants and I don't know how to get him to tell me. It just all feels so futile. So why even begin?"

"Begin because you are getting married-"

"Are we?" Elsie nearly laughed "I'm not so sure."

"Now would he have asked you if he didn't want to marry you?"

"I used to think I knew. I used to be sure that I knew him so well, but now… now that we ought to be closer than ever, I feel so very distanced from him, its making me question how well Ive ever know him at all. Have I? Or have I only been seeing what I want to see… Mrs. Patmore…" She looked into her friends eyes, wanting to pick up on even the slightest reaction, searching for truth anywhere she could find it "Do you think I pushed him into it? Do you think he regrets it now?"

Mrs. Patmore sighed so deeply that her shoulders slumped and said as much to herself as to Elsie "This is ever the trouble with romance, the men can't sort out their own emotions and go getting us all tied in knots trying to work out how it's our fault."

Elsie felt very relieved hearing those words, as if she's known their truth all along and just hadn't been able to find it in her own mind. "Why didn't I come to you sooner?" She smiled and took her friend's hand. Beryl gave her hand a squeeze and said "The one question everyone always does manage to send my way. But the question I have for you is: Which one of you is going to be the one to start the conversation? I hope you won't keep waiting around up here for that man-of all men- to finally come around. You might find yourself waiting another twenty years for heavens' sake"


End file.
